


watch the queens conquer

by owlinaminor



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Queens, who really runs the Enterprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:19:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlinaminor/pseuds/owlinaminor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes."  (The story of two queens.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	watch the queens conquer

" _Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes." – Jim Carrey_

Nyota Uhura is used to being the queen of the Enterprise.

Jim Kirk may think he rules the ship, Spock may think he rules the captain, and McCoy may think he keeps them all in check, but they're wrong. After all, who spends hours negotiating peace treaties so that the ship doesn't get attacked during liftoff? Who gets the final say in arguments over whether or not Kirk should actually go through with his crazy schemes? Who gives the ensigns an encouraging nod when they're freaking out about something? Who drags Kirk to bed when he's been on the bridge for forty-eight straight hours? Who forces Spock to actually show emotion? Who keeps the Enterprise moving like a well-oiled machine, just this side of invincible?

Nyota doesn't need any kind of recognition – her ego gets a big enough boost whenever she strides off of the bridge and feels several pairs of eyes on her confidently sashaying figure. She's content pulling the strings behind the curtain, as long as the play runs smoothly, and the rest of the crew don't make asses of themselves (well, at least, not so much that it's actually life-threatening.)

But it gets tiring, sometimes. Nyota feels as though she has to be a mother for all of these men, feels responsible for cleaning up their messes and telling them that everything will be alright. She wishes she had someone who could tell  _her_  that, a shoulder to lean on, a soothing presence she could complain to at the end of the day, a person who understood.

Enter Dr. Carol Marcus, second science officer, with a doctorate in applied physics, specializing in advanced weaponry.

Carol doesn't take crap from anybody – not Kirk, not Spock, not her father. She fights for the Enterprise, a group of people she barely knows, against the man who raised her. Nyota watches, face placid heart pounding, as Carol skillfully disables a torpedo before it can take McCoy permanently out of commission, and hopes she stays on.

Carol is a queen, and anyone who doesn't believe it can enjoy a fist to the face, delivered with a winning smirk. She might take Nyota's place on the Enterprise, and Nyota might be a bit jealous if that happens, but Nyota would rather share the throne.

Nyota finds her in the Academy library late one night a week before the Enterprise is supposed to take off on its five-year mission, her head in her arms beside a thick, old-fashioned book, golden wisps of hair spread out upon the pages of the book and the deep read of her sweater like rays of the sun.

"Hey," Nyota says, softly, so as not to wake her if she's asleep.

"Oh, hello, didn't see you there." Carol sits up and gives a professional smile, tucking a wayward sunbeam behind her ear. "Uhura, right?"

"Nyota," the other woman replies. "You working late?"

"I just want to be prepared," Carol says. "I don't want to make any mistakes."

Nyota laughs at that, laughs with her eyes and the curve of her smile. "Oh, we all make mistakes," she says. "The brilliant boys of the USS Enterprise just learn from them faster than most people."

"Because you'd kick their arses if they didn't?" Carol asks.

"Exactly." Nyota knew there was a reason she liked this woman. "Hey, want to put the books down and go get a drink?"

"Sure." And off they go, high-heeled boots clicking on the floors of the Academy hallways.

They slip onto neighboring stools at the bar, the noise of twilight traffic dulling to a dim roar as they order red wine and make themselves comfortable. Conversation always flows easily when the night is young and the skies are clear, and tonight is no exception: Carol asks what life is like on the Enterprise, for the kind of stories you don't read in the official reports, Nyota is only too happy to oblige, and two hours later they're debating Federation colonial policy and the merits of studying Romulan literature.

Someone announces that last call is in ten minutes, and both women abruptly glance at the clock projected onto the back wall, eyes wide and not at all tired.

"My apartment is a couple of blocks away," Nyota says (more a command than an offer, really, like anything Nyota says.)

Carol nods, and they slide off of their stools, barely feeling the weight of eyes upon them as they stride out. Their hands brush as they escape out the door, igniting a brief spark – unacknowledged, but not unnoticed.

The stars are bright: so far away, but reachable, waiting.

Nyota Uhura and Carol Marcus are both queens in their own rights, and the best queens always get what they want.

"I really like you," Carol says, no mumbling or hesitation, as the apartment door shuts behind her.

Nyota leans in, cupping Carol's face carefully in warm, chocolate palms as she presses closer, tastes.

The next morning, Carol will awake in a bed disheveled and satisfied to the sound of faint humming and the smell of coffee. She'll follow her senses to a kitchen lit partially by the sun, but mostly by the nude woman padding across it, ebony hair flowing freely down to her waist.

Carol will sneak up behind her, behind this brilliant scientist fluent in a dozen languages, and press a kiss to her neck.

"Last night was lovely," she'll whisper.

And Nyota will turn around, smiling with her half-moon mouth and the crinkles in her eyes. "Want to make it more than a one-time thing?"

The Enterprise is a fine lady, a generous lady, a royal lady. Her court is always expanding – kings and jacks, jokers and aces. But she only needs two queens.

Perhaps, in another universe, Nyota and Carol could be conquistadores: taking down civilizations with a few well-placed words, feared by all who heard of them, dreaded by any who stood in their way. Or maybe they could be leaders: pushing a nation to greatness with grins and high-heeled shoes, loved by their people, respected by their enemies. They could even be warriors: screaming, crying, demanding that they got the respect they deserved, earning what should have been rightfully theirs.

But in this life, they are explorers: seeking, searching, boldly going where no woman has gone before. They run the ship, no regardless of what the brilliant boys beneath them might think. They are queens of the best kingdom a woman could dream of.

And they always turn heads when they stride out of a room.


End file.
